


Dreaming of Bermuda

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [261]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 23:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11816529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: Our lads dream of Horseshoe Bay in Bermuda.





	Dreaming of Bermuda

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laura_McEwan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_McEwan/gifts), [Helen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helen/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Emila-Wan and Carol  
> Mali Wane and Laura McEwan for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3  
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia 
> 
> Reference:  
> [Harry Belafonte Lyrics - Angelina - AZLyrics](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/harrybelafonte/angelina.html)
> 
> Arcadian references:  
> [Bermuda Breezes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11050047)  
> [Wilde Night](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1907883)

  
Image by [merryamelie@aol.com](mailto:merryamelie@aol.com) and [suechosethis@gmail.com](mailto:suechosethis@gmail.com) (Quinn's kiss) 

Ian ran his fingers through Quinn's summer-long hair as they relaxed on the couch with their feet up, after a tiring day at Luke. He melted into the blissful feel of Quinn's arm cradling him closer. It was a Wednesday night in the middle of August, and they had the windows open to enjoy the breeze. Artoo and Sandy were already asleep in their baskets in the kitchen. The late news was on, and Ian had muted the TV during the commercials. He turned up the sound when he saw an ad that had him snap to attention. "Listen, Quinn," he said in anticipation.

The handsome face of distinguished actor William Gleason appeared on the screen. He was in full Admiral's regalia, while the QO2, the flagship of the Quality Oceanic Lines fleet, sailed on a shimmering sea in the background. A rainbow flag flew proudly in the top right corner of the TV screen. "Starting this January, to celebrate marriage equality coming to Bermuda, the QO2 will offer wedding cruises for all couples sailing to King's Wharf. The captain will conduct the ceremonies himself. Honeymoon packages are currently available for booking in advance through your travel agent. Please be sure to book early, since we anticipate extensive demand." He ended the commercial with a jaunty salute to the audience, as the rainbow flag billowed in the sea breeze.

"Wow! I'm so proud of Gleason," Ian said, practically bouncing in excitement. "He spoke out strongly for equal marriage in Northern Ireland just last month, and now this."

Quinn nodded into the soft copper spikes of Ian's hair. "'Tis truly inspirational, my little lad."

"He's not only played an admiral, he is an admirable man himself," said Ian, his ever-present wordplay, along with his sunny grin, brightening their living room. "He is truly a Force to be reckoned with."

Quinn chuckled appreciatively and pulled Ian even closer to him, giving him a tender kiss, which added a sparkle to his blue-grey eyes.

They'd had the privilege of seeing Gleason on Broadway back in 2006, when he played Oscar Wilde, with Evan Gregory co-starring as Lord Alfred Douglas. Gleason and Gregory seemed made for each other -- 'ideal husbands', as Wilde himself would say -- while they worked their magic on the stage. It was an exhilarating performance that the professors would never forget.

Nuzzling into his herven's neck, Ian said, "Sounds like they'll make a fortune on cruise weddings for everyone now. Equality is good for the economy, as well as everything else."

"Yes, it's a multi-million dollar boost for the wedding industry," Quinn said. "No wonder that so often, corporations are leading the way with LGBT rights -- it's good for business."

Ian nodded. "Yeah, that's what you've been saying for years. Well, looks like you're prescient, as always, ma gradh." Ian winked at him.

Quinn smiled and winked back. "Must be that Jedi foresight you're always teasing me about, lad."

Ian's peal of laughter brightened the living room even more than his grin. "And remember, you were the one who suggested sailing to Bermuda back in May, when marriage equality became the law there." And just in the couple of months since they'd returned, Germany and Malta had also achieved equal marriage. There was truly a lot to celebrate around the world, and Ian knew it. He raised his cappuccino mug to Quinn, grinning when the foam tickled his nose while he drank.

Quinn wished that he had his cell phone there to take a picture of his laddie looking just like this. "And it certainly felt like a honeymoon cruise, Ian, especially since we didn't take one." He licked the foam off Ian's nose, then kissed his forehead.

Ian grinned. "Mmm-hmm. I still dream about the way you pounced on me in the shower in our cabin...."

"So do I, laddie," said Quinn, curling his hand around Ian's shoulder. He growled softly into Ian's ear, doing Aslan proud, and smiled when his husband shivered in delight.

* * *

Ian's conversation with Quinn drifted into both men's dreams that night, as if Quinn had used the Jedi Mind Trick to give his husband a sleep suggestion, and it had resulted in shared dreaming. And what marvelous dreams they were!

Quinn and Ian were back in Bermuda, strolling hand in hand along the shore of Horseshoe Bay, but this time, they were the only ones on the beach. They wore only their trunks -- navy blue for Ian; emerald green for Quinn. Wavelets were lapping at their feet, the crystal-blue water a perfect complement to the pink sand. Pausing for one blissful Moment, Quinn dove in for a kiss fit for a honeymoon.

Their kiss was fourteen years in the making -- from hiding to thriving; from worry to no worries; from the darkness of the closet to the brightness of the Light.

Then they continued their walk, relishing the shade of the palm trees along the way. Ian picked up a conch shell to give to Quinn, grinning when he put it to his ear to hear the sound of the ocean. He handed it back to Ian, so he could hear the rushing sound of the tide, as well. After both of them had their turns, Ian placed it back on the sand.

"How about a swim, laddie?" asked Quinn, as he ran his fingertips through copper strands burnished by the sunshine.

"Sounds wonderful," Ian said. He dipped his hand to the small of Quinn's back, gently massaging it.

The men splashed into the ocean, hooting and shouting in exhilaration. When they stood waist-deep in the bay, they turned to each other for a very wet kiss. Quinn licked water droplets off his herven's cheek, then nuzzled into him, so he could feel his grin.

They started to swim across the cove, using the Australian crawl to power themselves through the aquamarine ocean, a great way to burn off a lot of their Jedi energy. After a couple of racing laps, with each man winning one of them, they settled down to playing in the gentle surf.

A huge yellow raft with blue polka dots drifted by, and Quinn snagged it with one long arm. He helped to haul Ian on top of the raft, then scrambled onto it himself, somehow managing to get his legs and arms aboard, too. It was even better than doing the backfloat across the bay; they dipped their hands in the water, and all the raft needed was the slightest nudge to go their way. After about fifteen minutes relaxing in the sunshine, they slid back into the water, letting the raft bob away.

Now they were waist-deep in the bay once more. The color of their eyes echoed the seascape surrounding them -- Quinn's matched the sky, and Ian's matched the ocean. Ian's hair was plastered to his head, darkened to russet brown because it was dripping wet, while Quinn's had become a dark chestnut color.

"Mmmmm, laddie, 'tis a good look on you," Quinn said appreciatively. He reached over to brush a lock of hair off Ian's forehead.

Ian swept Quinn's heavy strands away from his face. "And you look positively majestic."

They ambled out of the water, and Ian started to sing 'Angelina', one of his favorite calypso songs on their Harry Belafonte CD:

"Angelina, Angelina,  
please bring down your concertina  
And play a welcome for me  
cause I'll be coming home from sea."

Quinn joined in and started dancing Ian around on the shore. They kicked up the pink sand as they whirled and sang together. As they danced, the men relished touching the bare, sun-warmed skin of each other's shoulders and waist. Much better for them to feel beneath their hands than all of the layers of their tuxedos.

Then Quinn's Force-enhanced vision saw something bobbing on the surf in the distance, and both of them headed over to check it out. It turned out to be a stuffed plush animal that looked exactly like Sandy, their fox terrier. Since it was a dream, neither of them batted an eye at the incongruity of finding the toy there. Quinn presented it to Ian, who carried it over to their little oasis on the beach.

The dream had also added treats that they hadn't had when they vacationed on Horseshoe Bay. Next to their recliners, beach towel, and cobalt-blue umbrella, there was now a redwood table with benches. On top of the table sat a cooler and a picnic basket, which contained focaccia sandwiches filled with spinach, artichoke, and pesto spread; rum-glazed pears; coconut-cream pie. The cooler held bottles of guava and mango juice, along with ice-cold water.

Ravenous after their swim, the men sat down and made short work of the sandwiches, dessert, and drinks. Thanks to their dream, they finally had the fiesta on the beach that Quinn had wanted back in May. Somehow, the ever-playful Ian managed to get coconut cream on the corner of his bottom lip, which brought an added gleam to Quinn's eye.

After lunch, the men were hot from the bright sunshine, so they dipped into the bay for a moment to cool off. Then they decided to lounge on their forest-green beach towel, which was as large as a king-sized sheet. It was spread out on the pink sand under a palm tree a few yards away from the ocean, and the fronds would keep them cool, along with the sea breezes.

After taking off their trunks and throwing them on the benches, they lay down on the towel side by side and turned to face each other. Since they were alone on the beach, things got passionate *fast*. Ian gave Quinn a deep kiss and started to lick the water droplets off his husband's face in a leisurely, meandering glide, then continued down his neck to his chest, stomach, thighs, and calves, neatly skirting his groin. Quinn's groans blended with the sound of the rushing surf and created a unique song inspired by Ian and Horseshoe Bay itself.

Quinn could feel the Living Force at its most intense as they made love, here on the seashore underneath the Bermuda-blue sky. He lay back on the blanket, with Ian easing him into a state of delicious arousal, all the while surrounded by endless pink sand, as if they had washed ashore on a faraway planet. Pure magic for two!

When Quinn felt his fhear-cheile's (husband's) erection pressing against his thigh as he continued on his sensual journey, he hauled Ian up to sprawl on top of him. "Lad," he said in a low rumble, managing to make the pet name go on for four syllables.

Now they were cock to cock, and both of them gasped at the sensation at the same time. They just couldn't keep still for all the water in Horseshoe Bay.

"So good, laddie," Quinn crooned. He drifted his fingertip over the inviting curve of his husband's cheek, smiling in delight when he felt Ian's hips buck in response.

"Oh, yeah," Ian shouted, grunting when huge hands cupped his backside to bring him in even closer. His hands ran up and down Quinn's arms, still shimmering with droplets of water from their swim, while his hips wriggled in a free-form dance, which was even more arousing than their earlier dancing on the beach.

Quinn could never resist that hip wriggle -- not fourteen years ago, not now, not any point in between. He moaned as he felt his cock becoming impossibly harder. "Ian," he ground out, as he tried desperately to hold off his orgasm.

But Ian had other ideas. "Please," he grated out, in simple eloquence.

That one word undid Quinn. Racing to capture Ian's lips, he barely made it as he started to come in ecstatic bursts. He drove his hips up hard into Ian's and groaned in pure bliss as his laddie fell apart above him. His own orgasm seemed to go on as long as the cruise itself had lasted. Their come blended together, along with the sheen of water still left on their skin, a wonderfully sticky mess. He used his long reach to catch a droplet dripping down the side of his thigh. He gave his finger a lick, then offered it to Ian, who suckled it contentedly.

Ian went boneless on top of him, but Quinn could easily take his weight forever.

"'Tis paradise, laddie," said Quinn, his voice gone rough around the vowels.

Ian whispered, "I love it here, but our real paradise is at home."

Just as in real life, back in May, Quinn could only agree, kissing his lad softly as he relished their privacy this time.

Quinn had said that Bermuda was his dream vacation when they'd gotten home from the cruise, and now it was literally true.


End file.
